The perils of reading
by screenwriter2014
Summary: Laura gets herself into a somewhat tricky situation.


A/N - Sorry for anyone wanting an update to my other story, but this little episode happened when I was on holiday. It's an entirely stupid idea, but it amused me. Hope it raises a giggle!

* * *

Laura yawned loudly and rolled over to check the clock on the bedside table. She was still tired, but it was no use, she wouldn't go back to sleep now. Light was pouring through the curtains and the starlings in the eaves above her had been singing for what felt like hours. It was the worst part about shift work, this waking up early. She'd always been a morning person, and it made very little difference whether she'd been tucked up with a book by ten, or, as in the case of the previous night, attending a car accident on the Oxford ringroad at three am. In winter she normally managed a few extra hours, but now they were well into spring and the clocks had gone forward, she didn't have a hope. So much for a Sunday morning lie-in.

She threw a vest on and padded downstairs in search of caffeine. As she waited for the kettle to boil, she wandered through to the living room and tidied up the remnants of her dinner. The call out had been at nine, and she'd only just finished her bowl of pasta before having to run out. It had been a bit of a grim one, two kids, both over the limit, wrapped round a tree. Early signs suggested they had been pre-loading at home before heading out. The young driver had misjudged a corner and at that speed they hadn't stood a chance. Stupid boys, who wouldn't have a chance to grow up now. It was chilly - too early for the central heating to have flicked on - and she regretted not having changed into her pyjamas. She yawned again and perched on the arm of the sofa. Her phone was still plugged in to charge, and she picked it up, scrolling absent-mindedly though the news feed, her emails. There was nothing interesting really, an email about a lecture next week that might be worth attending, one from Ellen about her latest conquest. She'd give her a call later on, find out all the gory details.

Knowing she was on call, she hadn't made any specific plans for her Sunday, and the hours seemed to stretch out in front of her. It was only nine - practically a lie-in by her standards - but she was exhausted and grumpy. It would be a struggle to muster up the initiative to do anything useful today. The kettle pinged off and she stood, pausing briefly to reach up for a book on the shelf. With nothing more urgent to worry about, a morning in bed with coffee and Henry James seemed like a decent plan. Not for the first time, she cursed her limited height and gingerly balanced on the bottom shelf to hoist herself up. It was a move she'd executed numerous times. But as her fingers slid over the matte spine of the volume, the whole structure seemed to shift. There was an ominous creak and she grasped at the nearest shelf. It made no different though, the shelf was coming towards her, and to her horror, she felt herself falling. Instinctively, she covered her head, books raining down around her, and heard the alarming groan as the antique bookcase tilted and then toppled, crashing against the opposite wall and no doubt taking a decent chunk out of her paintwork.

Slowly she opened her eyes…

She was crouched down, her arm still over her head, and miraculously she was unhurt. A book slid down the back of the sofa and made her jump.

"Jesus fucking christ…"

She was shaking, the wind quite literally taken out of her and she took a moment to catch her breath. Checking again that she was ok, twisting experimentally, she pressed up with her arm against the heavy oak above her. It didn't move. Again she shoved, trying to lever the wood against the sofa.

It wouldn't budge.

She was trapped.

For a few minutes, she just sat there, curled over her knees, not believing that it was actually happening. That she could be wedged under a bookcase in her own house. It was far too ridiculous to believe. She thumped at the wood and groaned in frustration. There was no way that she'd be able to shift this on her own. A flutter of panic rose in her chest, accompanied by visions of her own post-mortem. Rawbone would probably die laughing as he wrote up the cause of death. She shivered. She was only wearing her knickers and a vest top, and in spite of the confined space she now found herself hunched in, she was bloody freezing. Hypothermia was a very real thing, and although her morbid sense of humour was attempting to keep her sane, she knew that this could get serious. A vibration in her hand, as a new email pinged in, brought her back to reality.

"Oh, thank god"

She lifted up the handset and squinted at the screen. Plenty of signal, fully charged, and it seemed completely undamaged. She wouldn't be winning a Darwin award this year… Quickly she scrolled through to the address book and worked her way down the contact list. Ellen was too far away. It would take her at least two hours to get here, and besides, she was most likely to be wedged under her latest toyboy and ignoring her phone. Unlike me, who is wedged under… She sighed loudly.

Hathaway was the next name on the list, and for a moment she seriously considered it. They'd grown closer over the past year, and when Robbie had been struggling over the murder of his friend, she'd actually spent quite a lot of time in the pub talking to the younger man. James seemed to understand the tacit agreement she had with Lewis, and he'd been genuinely supportive on the odd Friday night down the Trout. But she wasn't sure he was ready for this. The sight of her in her undies might very well scar the poor boy for life. No…it would have to be Robbie. She groaned, and tapped the phone against her bottom lip. She hadn't seen him for a couple of weeks, had been trying to keep her distance. They'd had a slightly awkward conversation the previous month, he'd questioned her judgement on a case and she'd found it difficult not to take it personally. More or less, they'd worked out a happy compromise these past few years - she hadn't rushed him, he'd made more of an effort to talk about his feelings - but it was far from perfect. For the most part, it was fine, this status quo they had. She had no plans to go looking for anyone else…no real expectations of him. It was what it was. They were two lonely people who were friends, and most of the time, that was fine. He was there when she needed him. But he'd never let her live this down. Never. She shivered again, and realised that her teeth were beginning to chatter. What a bloody perfect Sunday morning this was turning out to be…

* * *

Robbie was wandering the aisles of Tesco when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out, he smiled at the caller ID,

"Laura…"

"Hi Robbie"

There was a slight pause, and he wondered if the signal wasn't great.

"Everything alright? I'm just doing me shopping…"

There was a long sigh,

"Laura?"

"I'm currently wedged under a bookcase in my living room and I can't move it. At the risk of sounding like a Disney princess, could you please come and rescue me?"

* * *

He had dumped his basket in the aisle and walked straight out to his car. She'd clearly not wanted to talk, but had given him precise instructions of where he would find a spare key in her back garden. In the past he would have mocked her naive approach to security, but on reflection he rather envied her. It must be nice to go to sleep at night unafraid of intruders. He drove carefully but quickly, conscious that she might well be injured. She had been snappy on the phone, and was obviously not seriously hurt, but he knew Laura, and she could always be relied upon to put a brave face on things.

* * *

Ten minutes later, he swung the car into her drive and jumped out. After a quick rummage under several flower pots, he found the key, and he left himself in,

"Laura? It's me…"

He'd only been in her house a few times, and he wasn't sure where she'd be.

"In here"

He followed the sound of her voice, and in a few strides he was in the living room, surveying the mess,

"What the…?"

There were books everywhere, the coffee table was smashed, the sofa up-ended, and a huge floor to ceiling bookshelf was lying heavily over the mess.

"Jesus, Laura, are you ok?"

He began to move books away, chucking them on to the sofa,

"If you dare breath a word about this to _anyone_ , I will actually kill you, Robert Lewis"

Her voice was steady, but he couldn't miss the frightened edge to her tone,

"What the hell happened?"

"I'm fine. But don't look at me, I'm naked"

His head whipped round, and he crouched down to look under the fallen bookcase,

"I'm more worried that you're injured pet…"

His eyes raked over her bare legs,

"I said don't look!"

He smiled, and theatrically rolled his eyes,

"OK, OK, I've got my eyes shut…"

I'm fine, I just can't move it on my own"

He swallowed, and tried to take charge of the situation,

"I'm not surprised! You're lucky it didn't kill you"

"Right now I'm not feeling especially lucky. Could you get my dressing gown from the bedroom?"

He tried not to laugh, trust Laura to be worried about her modesty.

Quickly he grabbed her robe from the back of the door in the bedroom, and returned to the living room. He was careful not to rush, not to risk hurting her, and slowly he cleared the books away.

"I'm going to lift it up now, Laura, can you give it a push?"

Between them, they levered the heavy furniture up and she dashed out, grabbing her robe and immediately wrapping it around her. Carefully, and not without some significant effort, he hauled the bookcase back against the wall. Once he was satisfied that it was stable, he turned around. She had wrapped the robe around her tightly, and was rubbing her arms vigourously,

"You're freezing, pet, come here"

It was rare that he hugged her these days, and he wondered for a moment if it would contravene their flimsy, unspoken truce. She shivered visibly and he decided he didn't much care. He stepped forward and ran his hands up and down her forearms, trying to generate a little heat. She was furious, that much was obvious, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was the ridiculousness of her situation rather than his actions. She screwed up her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose,

"God, I'm such an idiot"

He grinned and continued to rub some warmth into her,

"I…"

"That wasn't a question, by the way…"

She glared at him, and he smiled patiently, as he always did,

"Go take a shower, I'll put the kettle on…"

She looked uncertain, clearly caught between trying to put on a brave face and the fact that she was clearly shivering.

"Go…"

* * *

Under the hot spray of the shower, Laura began to see the funny side. Yes, she had been stupid, but there was no point in getting worked up over what might have happened. And Robbie was more than enjoying his role as knight in shining armour. In some ways it was quite fortuitous, had offered an opportunity to see him away from work. She rinsed the conditioner off her hair and groaned as the warm water coursed down her back. Things had been taut recently, ever since the death of his ex-colleague really, and maybe this was a chance to reset things a bit, get their friendship back on track?

* * *

When she walked back into the living room, now fully clothed in jeans and a jumper,he was already clearing the piles of books.

"Have you got a screwdriver, pet?"

She smiled at the endearment, and retrieved one from a drawer in the kitchen. He worked silently, screwing the unit into the metal brackets on the wall…the brackets she'd never actually bothered to fix in. To his credit, he didn't make any comment about her lack of safety awareness, just asked her to pass him another screw.

"Thanks"

He turned and grinned broadly, nodding in the direction of the kitchen,

"There's a pot of coffee in there with your name on it"

* * *

She returned carrying two mugs of the steaming coffee, and after a generous sip, set them both on the top of a pile of books. The coffee table was ruined, but she wasn't especially bothered. The large crack that ran across its surface could just had easily been across her head. She passed him a couple of books, and he began filling the top shelf. They worked in silence, but as she passed him book after book, she found that she couldn't suppress the giggles. They rose up from deep inside, part-hysterical reaction to the shock of what had happened, partly because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. When he turned back to take another volume she was practically bent doubt with laughter. He smiled, and allowed himself a small chuckle.

"You should have seen your face Robbie…"

She could barely get the words out, tears forming in her eyes, and he felt himself losing it too,

"Never mind pet…could have been worse"

She tried to breathe, and placed a hand on his back to steady herself,

"Thanks for rescuing me…much appreciated. God, to think that I nearly called Hathaway"

He turned slightly and he shook his head in amusement as she dissolved once again into giggles,

"Any time"

Casually, he threw his arm around her, pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of her head,

"Just don't make a habit of it on Sunday mornings, you were lucky I wasn't fast asleep"

She grinned and shook her head, finally gaining some composure,

"I won't, I promise."

She laid her palm on his chest, as she had so many times over the years, and leant up,

"Thank you"

She meant to kiss him on the cheek, a quick sign of affection, a sign they were back to normal, but as she stood on tiptoes he turned his head and met her lips with his own. She gasped, his arm swept around her waist, and they were kissing. His lips were surprisingly soft, and she shivered as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers. She cupped his cheek with her hand, losing herself momentarily in the wonderful feeling of showing him exactly how she felt, and then reality hit and she pulled back, shaking her head at her own stupidity,

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I know you're not ready…I…"

Her eyes searched his desperately for some indication of how he felt, whether he was upset. But he just looked at her calmly. After a long moment, he covered the hand that was still pressed to his cheek with his own, and kissed her palm,

"It's ok"

Relief flooded through her, and she nodded, understanding, accepting.

"I just got carried away…"

He released her hand and let it fall to her side, before tilting her chin up slightly. There was a strange look in his eyes, one that she had only seen a few times, and his voice was soft,

"Laura, I think I _am_ ready"

She raised an eyebrow involuntarily and took a deep breath, not yet convinced. Too much had happened this year, he'd been knocked for six in the aftermath of the McLennan case,

"You sure? I mean, given all the…?"

He didn't let her finish, his lips silencing her with another kiss. This time, neither of them hesitated. He lifted her slightly and she wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pull herself closer. He seemed to sense her frustration, and he moved backwards to the sofa, bringing her down with him. Gradually, their kisses grew more playful, his hand brushing back her hair as he traced a path up to her temple. Laura smiled and curled herself up against him,

"I suppose that's a yes then…"

His gaze was still intense, and she reached down to interlace her fingers with his.

"If you'll still have me"

"Always"

She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before sitting back and surveying him carefully,

"On one condition…"

"Hmm?"

She looked serious, but he couldn't resist the temptation to press a kiss to her knuckles.

"You never, _ever_ tell anyone about finding me naked under a bookcase"

He grinned and pulled her closer, so that she was practically on his lap,

"You weren't naked Laura"

She looked scandalised, and thumped him soundly on the arm,

"You looked!"

"Of course I looked…"

She scowled and turned away, and he took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck. She wriggled and he growled slightly,

"It's ok, my lips are sealed. So long as you, young lady, promise me never, _ever_ to go climbing in your underwear again…"


End file.
